There But For the Grace of "J" Goes "Anus"

The above photo, by the way, shows the Bronx, Manhattan, and New Jersey all at the same time. There aren't a lot of vantage points where you can pull this off, and this is also probably not the image that leaps immediately to most people's minds when they hear any of those place names. In fact, if you take away the bridges (and forget about the various dredgings and reroutings of the Harlem River over the centuries), it's not hard to imagine what the area looked like before the white man came along:

(The White Man)

I couldn't care less about the latest recreational trends among the young gentrifiers (it's shuffleboard, by the way), but I confess I do get a great big emotional boner when I catch an inadvertent glimpse of what New York must have been like back in the "olden days." That's one of the reasons I love riding a bike. (The inadvertent glimpses of what New York must have been like back in the "olden days," I mean. Not the boners.)

Broadway was originally the Wickquasgeck Trail, carved into the brush of Manhattan by its Native American inhabitants.

And here's what it looks like now as you ride south towards the city, the skyscrapers of Manhattan looming in the distance:

If this weren't a shitty cellphone photograph taken by a moron, you'd see the way Broadway follows the ridges and valleys as it makes its way through Yonkers, then the Bronx, then Manhattan, yielding that yellow-brick-road-wending-its-way-to-Oz effect. Sure, it's the "Great White Way" of the popular imagination, but it's also more or less the same road that once led from a small settlement to the deep, dark woods north of Wall Street:

(New Amsterdam totally looked like a wang, which I suppose would make Broadway its urethra.)

Anyway, it's a lot easier to get plugged into the past when you're on a bike (especially when you ride a pennyfarthing like I do), and once you are you start noticing all sorts of historical residue along the way, like old houses and interesting street names and even occasionally the mysterious "Hudson River Wanking Ghost," who has surprised and beguiled travelers for centuries with his phantasmagorical displays of spectral onanism:

(Artist's rendering of the Hudson River Wanking Ghost.)

I suppose if you're a science fiction dork you probably experience an aching desire for a glimpse into the actual future. (When you're not experiencing an aching desire for a date--which, if you're a science fiction dork, is equally elusive). As for me, I don't have much curiosity about the future, since I know it's going to suck and we're all screwed. The past, on the other hand, I find quite beguiling, and I'd give anything (well, maybe $30) to go back in time to 1894 and try a ride like this:

If you're not from New York none of the above will mean much to you (partially because you don't know the area, and partially because you're just slow), but if you are maybe you can appreciate it. Then again, bike dorks were probably just as annoying then as they were now. Plus, it's easy to idealize the past when it was probably even shittier than the present, thanks to all the racism and polio. Still, the sight of all those 19th century proto-Freds walking around in their "handsome souvenir medals" was probably pretty hilarious, and almost certainly the equivalent of the doofuses in their Gran Fondo New York jerseys who clog up the bike path on the George Washington Bridge today.

Yes, the more things stay the same, the more they change, or maybe it's the other way around, but either way it's especially true in New York, where we're constantly inventing new names for neighborhoods, such as "Dumbo:"

Anyway, I only mention the article because of this:In Brooklyn’s Dumbo the streets are carved from cobblestones, the hulking industrial edifices ooze prewar charm and approximately one-quarter of the companies leading the Big Apple’s design and tech boom, including West Elm and Etsy, lie within, alongside art galleries, artisanal shops and boutiques with precious names like Peas & Pickles and Recycle-a-Bicycle.

Uh, there's really nothing precious or artisanal about Recycle-a-Bicycle. They fix up old bikes. It's all rather prosaic. In fact, it's increasingly an island of relative normality in a sea of extreme douchiness.

One thing you probably didn't know though (or at least I didn't) is that he once turned in a urine sample that didn't contain any hormones:The 38-year-old has twice served suspensions for doping: first as the result of the "Oil for Drugs" investigation, for which he received a three-month ban in 2007. Shortly after returning, Di Luca's urine samples at the 2007 Giro d'Italia turned up suspiciously absent of any hormones, leading to suspicions that he was using a substance to break down any traces of drugs in his urine.

Sure, that may sound suspicious, but anybody who's seen Di Luca knows otherwise:

I have heard that Broadway is the longest street in America, stretching from the Battery to Albany.Would one of you NY historians get back to me on that?Great post today. I know where that photo was taken. Passed through there on the Circle Line cruise.

Real estate in NYC has always been a good investment. 400 years ago the Dutch purchased Manhattan from the natives for a couple blankets and a six pack of Heineken, it's nearly doubled in value since that time.

...knowing that now that BSNYC has mentioned sending the biscuit trend, and somebody very soon is going to mention it to me in brooklyn, i'll be going to send a biscuit frequently just to prepare myself.

So let me get this straight: last year there was a millionaire who wanted to give money to pay for the entire construction of a velodrome in Brooklyn bridge park, but the locals were all like *grumble* traffic *grumble* an 'obscure' sport, etc. etc.

Now some idiot with money has built shuffleboard courts(?!?) in what looks to be a huge space that could easily house, oh I don't know, a velodrome? I assume he actually expects to make money?

Say what you will about my man nub. When a 14 year old girl wants to experiment and is curious who do you think she turns to? Some big donkey dong or my non invasive man mound for maximum grind time? Kennys got your back Chloe......

There's a deli up the street that offers temperature soup when you buy a sandwich: Whatever the temp, that's what you pay. So when it's 60 degrees, the soup is 60 cents. Today it's minus 2, so you get the soup free plus 2 cents back. This has virtually nothing to do with today's post, so I guess it's my negative 2 cents worth.

Ease up on the NY-centric bigotry, Snobby. You don't have to be from there to appreciate the proto-Freds' ride; "lunch and rest until 9:10" is impressive wherever you are. Especially for those of us for whom awaking at 9:10 is a grand adventure.

In any event, as NY cycling's leading annalist, it falls to you to replicate the 1894 wheelmen's epic ride and chronicle the exploit here on your BSNYC journal.

Riding a bike from the era and wearing period costume would be essential for reasons of authenticity and audience amusement. I look forward to seeing your dispatches.

I remember a few years ago during rainstorm Jagoff, when my shoes got wet. The next year during windstorm Thurston, I flew a kite, named Sara, despite the weather alert, which was named Kenneth. In the morning, we had a sun shower named Murray, and then we waited for the sunshine, which was called Lou, to dry up the puddles, which all had names beginning with 'G'.

Take it easy on "Bib Short" guy. I'm sure that he's out there somewhere in the world, and gets slammed every time you post that photo (by someone like me).On the other hand, keep it up. Maybe he's already killed himself from the constant embarrassment. (you can only die once)

You know the Cannibal Rats are entirely imaginary... No one is on the boat reporting on the Cannibal Rat situation. If there were any rats, for all we know they have broken into the cargo of salt pork and are living high on the hog. For all we know some quirky radiation leaked out of some mad-scientist's beaker on the boat and killed all the people but mutated the rats into a higher-than-human intelligence. For all we know the rats are sailing to the North Pole using a cloaking device, to infiltrate Robs Fords's's Fortress of Solitude and Cocaine, where they are planning to use his super-weapons to make us their slaves. I mean, more competent slaves than we are now. FOR ALL WE KNOW...

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About Me

While I love cycling and embrace it in all its forms, I'm also extremely critical. So I present to you my venting for your amusement and betterment. No offense meant to the critiqued. Always keep riding!